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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22931377">Day 27: All This Time</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebright1/pseuds/thebright1'>thebright1</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>An Ineffable Plan: A Canon Compliant Love Story [27]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>6000 Years of Slow Burn (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley Through The Ages (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley's Bodyswap (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Ineffable Valentines 2020 (Good Omens), M/M, Soul Bond, The Night At Crowley's Flat (Good Omens), Trippy, metaphysical stuff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 07:08:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,827</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22931377</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebright1/pseuds/thebright1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Aziraphale,” Crowley mumbles against the angel’s lips. “Aziraphale, I choose you.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>An Ineffable Plan: A Canon Compliant Love Story [27]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620406</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>138</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Day 27: All This Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>All of the stories in this series are linked together, so if you want a full picture of what exactly is going on, please start with <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22520329"> Day 1: Chocolate</a>. </p><p>All the works in this series are also posted as a chaptered work for easier reading/downloading: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23081191/chapters/55213303"> An Ineffable Plan</a> </p><p>This directly picks up from where Day 26 left off. </p><p>This story has been written for the Ineffable Valentines 2020 Challenge on Tumblr.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Saturday Night - Crowley’s Flat </p><p> </p><p>Crowley and Aziraphale stand in the kitchen of Crowley’s flat, holding hands. Crowley hasn’t let go of Aziraphale’s hand since the bus. He hasn’t put his glasses back on. He has felt on edge all day, ever since he came out of the Internet and couldn’t find Aziraphale. He had tried to reach out through their bond and felt . . .nothing. It wasn’t like when Aziraphale had gone to hear Jesus preach in Heaven. Aziraphale described the bond to him like a rope that tied them together. When one of them was in Heaven or Hell, the rope was cut, and trailed into nothing. To Crowley, the bond has always felt much more like he was floating in space and Aziraphale was the satellite he was tethered to. If he lets go, he will disappear.  </p><p> </p><p>Coming out of his phone, he’d hurried to his car, to find Aziraphale, and when he looked for his satellite, it was gone. There was only emptiness, the yawning chasm of the universe, black and cold, and him, floating or falling, alone. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale gently wiggles the fingers that are clasped with Crowley’s own. “Crowley-” he begins. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley squeezes Aziraphale’s hand even tighter. “No,” he says softly. He is hungry for connection, in the absence of the bond. His brain is firing in a thousand different directions at once. “Please.” </p><p> </p><p>He tugs Aziraphale along with him to cupboards filled with glasses designed for specific types of alcohol. “My dear,” Aziraphale says gently, “I’m not going anywhere.” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley takes down two glasses and sets them on the counter with a loud thunk. “It’s really not bothering you?” He tries to keep the edge out of his voice, but fails. It’s been a very long day. He miracles a scotch bottle from his liquor cabinet. He tries to unscrew the top one handed, but it’s becoming increasingly awkward.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, no, the hand holding isn’t bothering me, but we do have to come up with some strategies to avoid whatever Gabriel and Beelzebub are planning, and I think you’d have an easier time pouring us a drink if you let go.” He wiggles his fingers. </p><p> </p><p>“I wasn’t talking about the hand holding,” Crowley says crossly. He doesn’t let go. “I meant our bond. Or, our lack of bond now. It’s not bothering you?” He succeeds in getting the cap of the scotch bottle off, and pours for himself and Aziraphale. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh!” Aziraphale pauses, looks confused. “What do you mean the <em> lack </em> of bond?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley is flabbergasted. “What-- Aziraphale!” he almost shouts. “It’s gone. Our soul bond. I can’t feel it at all.” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” Aziraphale frowns. “You can’t?”</p><p> </p><p>“No!” Crowley says. “Not since you discorporated.” </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t understand. Just since I discorporated?”</p><p> </p><p>Crowley nods. “Yeah. I was looking for you, but I couldn’t find you.” </p><p> </p><p>“But I found you!” Aziraphale protests. “The bond . . the bond is how I found you, Crowley. I followed it to you.” He is silent for a moment, his eyes unfocused. “It’s still here, I can feel it. I can trace it to you.” </p><p> </p><p>“But I can’t feel you,” Crowley says hoarsely. “I can’t feel you at all. It’s like you’ve burned away.” Crowley finishes pouring the blasted scotch, downs two fingers like a shot. The alcohol burns all the way down. He sloppily pours another, scotch dribbling down the side of the glass. “Why can <em> you </em> feel it and I can’t? That’s not how a soul bond works. One person isn’t locked on to someone who isn’t locked on to them.” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale takes his glass and has a measured sip. “I’m not sure. If anything . . “ he pauses. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley waves his other hand impatiently. “If anything, what?”</p><p> </p><p>“If anything, I think the bond feels a bit stronger to me now. Like-- I can feel your heartbeat.” Aziraphale looks at him, concentrates. “And your sadness,” he says softly. “You feel so sad, love,” Aziraphale says. “I feel so much sadness from you. How can you live with all this sadness?” His fingers clench around Crowley’s. “Come sit down, maybe you’re just not focusing properly. We have had a long day. I’m feeling very tired.” </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale leads Crowley around his own flat, to the long black leather couch in his living room. Aziraphale sits first, and pulls Crowley down next to him. Their knees touch. Crowley feels better with the additional contact. He slides his body next to Aziraphale’s, so they are touching from shoulder to ankle. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” Aziraphale says. He looks over at Crowley and smiles. Crowley feels his heartbeat speed up at the sight. “It feels so nice to be close to you. I never want to be parted again.” Then he frowns. “Wait, that’s not-- that’s not me, that’s you.” He shakes his head. “Oh, my, the bond feels so strong right now, I’m having trouble . . . I don’t know what I’m feeling and what you’re feeling.” He swallows. “Are you sure you can’t feel it? Here, I’ll try-- I’ll try to focus on something.” He squints his eyes scrunches up his face. He looks constipated. Crowley bursts out laughing. </p><p> </p><p>Then Aziraphale is laughing, suddenly, too, but he looks confused. “Why are we laughing?” he asks Crowley. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley sobers a bit, and feels a bit ashamed. “You just . . . you looked very much like someone having a very difficult time on the loo.” He smiles, trying to take the sting out of it. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale scowls, but then says, “But you’re ashamed? That I look that way? That you thought that?” Aziraphale puts a hand up to his temple. “Oh, this is very difficult for me. You feel so much, Crowley, and it’s all getting mixed up in here. Maybe . . maybe if we . . .” he shifts on the couch, moving away, allowing a few inches between them.  </p><p> </p><p>Crowley feels the loss keenly. He gasps, almost whines. He needs Aziraphale to come next to him right now. “Aziraphale, please . . .” He finds himself gripping Aziraphale’s hand tighter, pulling him back towards him with all his demonic strength. </p><p> </p><p>“Crowley, I can’t. . “ Aziraphale says, gasping. He’s pulling away from Crowley, matching his strength. “It's too much, everything, it’s too much for me, I can’t . . “</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale pulls away, Crowley pulls back in a tug of war, but even as he does so, he feels like the angel is slipping through his fingers. He feels a wave of despair and panic rise over him. His eyes unfocus. He’s floating away, out among the stars, all alone . . . </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Crowley is floating in the vacuum of space, unmoored to anything. All around him are tiny hard white dots of stars, and empty blackness. He’s so small out here. One demon in the vast abyss. Smaller than a speck of space dust. Less than a cell, less than an atom. Atom. Adam. He looks down and suddenly Earth is before him…. Two Earths, simultaneously. One is gray, red, and black. It’s a fireball of a planet, destroyed down to its very core. The other is the Earth he knows-- blue, white, green, patches of yellow and brown. </p><p> </p><p><em> Where should these ones go, Mother? </em> <em><br/>
<br/>
</em></p><p>
  <em> Oh, anywhere you like.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Crowley feels something come up behind him. It’s familiar and at the same time completely unfamiliar. He can feel power radiating from it. So much power, it’s frightening. This isn’t Satan. He knew Satan, before he gained all his power. He understands Satan. This is something else. Power at a level that he cannot comprehend. Whatever looms behind him is something that he doesn’t want to see. He doesn’t think he will be able to comprehend it. He’s afraid it will drive him mad. The enormity dwarfs him. He, this very small thing, smaller than an atom, Adam, atom, stands before something so huge and complex. Terror grips him like a vice. He’s frozen, can’t move, can’t scream. There’s no air to scream with here anyway. </p><p> </p><p>Words engulf him. They’re not spoken, they’re just felt, each syllable ringing through his bones to the very marrow. <em> You must choose your faces wisely.  </em></p><p> </p><p><em> Choose </em> , he thinks. Choice. He looks at the two worlds: one burning ash and the other living and vibrant. <em>A choice.</em></p><p> </p><p>He closes his eyes against the blackness of space, against the dual visions of Earth, against the fearsome power at his back. Behind his eyes, he can see himself, and Aziraphale, six thousand years ago on the garden wall. Back when he was Crawly. <em> I remember you, </em> he thinks, looking at Aziraphale’s brilliant smile. <em> I remember how young your eyes were. </em>He watches his former self smile and laugh with the angel. He hears Aziraphale say “my dear”. He hears Aziraphale say “Professional adversaries”. And then he sees Aziraphale lean forward and kiss him, and when he pulls back . . . something changes. When he pulls back, Crowley can see that Aziraphale has taken something from him . . . something small. . . just a few atoms, really. They follow Aziraphale, buzzing around his head like a halo. And Crowley can see the hole that Aziraphale has left. It’s small-- so very, very small. Aziraphale kissed him and took a piece of him, and he didn’t give anything back to fill the space. And Crawly . . Crawly! Crawling, out of the burning sulphur, burned black, Crawly, lower than low, beggar, squirming, he would have given anything for one taste of love . . . Aziraphale was right. He had been vulnerable. He had been exposed. </p><p> </p><p>He’s been asking for more of Aziraphale for 6000 years. And Aziraphale has been hiding him, keeping him tucked away like a secret for just as long. </p><p> </p><p>He opens his eyes and sees only the living world. Aziraphale’s words echo in his head. “On our side, we must love ourselves as much as we love each other.” He hears his own voice “A vow.”  </p><p> </p><p><em>I chose,</em> he thinks. <em>I chose already. </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I chose him. I choose him. </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em>Yes, I chose him,</em> a voice rumbles through him. <em>For you.</em></p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Crowley awakens to find Aziraphale kissing him. The angel is sitting on his lap, hands gently holding his head in place, and softly pressing their lips together, over and over. He’s speaking words against Crowley’s lips. “I choose you, I choose you, I choose you.” </p><p> </p><p>“Aziraphale,” Crowley mumbles against the angel’s lips. “Aziraphale, I choose you.” Crowley’s hands come up, shakily, to rest in the crook of Aziraphale’s elbows. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale pulls back far enough so Crowley can look in his eyes. They are filled with tears. “All this time . . .” he trails off. “You are <em> not </em> my profesional adversary,” he says, his voice breaking. “You’re my best friend. You’re my other half. I love you. This is not a love token, or a calling card. Will you bond yourself to me?” </p><p> </p><p>Crowley feels something inside him begin to glow. In the dark places, for the first time, he sees the light of dawn. “Yes,” Crowley gasps. “I choose you, I bond myself to you. Aziraphale, I love you.” </p><p> </p><p>And then they are kissing, and Crowley was right, there is no stopping them.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for all the kudos and comments!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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